Hans Torment
by Molkite
Summary: Han has some tormenting thoughts. very OOC, Han/OMC.


Okay a few things you need to know:

This is my first Star Wars fiction for years, and I mean years discount the rubbish Solo baby chapter I posted :P So be nice.

I'm trying to develop my own idea of Han so he will be OOC.

Yes Han is slightly slashed in this story, flamers don't bother I will NOT tolerate homophobia. I have a lot of experience dealing with you guys so don't get me started. And log in if you really must post your abuse. This is your warning.

Sorry NCIS people this is bugging me I have to get this out to make room for more NCIS before season 5 starts showing here on Friday.

~*~

A lonely Han Solo sighed and picked at a sharp edge of metal on the wall beside him. Although, the main cabin of the Falcon was his main home, he refused to change her natural form. It was just something that Han wouldn't do, even when she got cold in the depths of space, and a even when his sleeping form got a rude awakening, brushing against the cold metal in the dead of night time.

He flicked the UV lamp off and rolled onto his back, lying sprawled on his makeshift bunk. Even the UV light didn't perk him up, if anything it made him feel increasingly ill. It was night time, both by his bio clock and also on the surface of the planet they had landed on. For once Han chose to stay on board and not spend the night on solid ground. The Falcon was familiar.

His unusually foul mood had started earlier in the night, he had been sat in his usual dark corner of a cantina. Aliens came and went, drinks were exchanged and drank. Fights broke out, and spilled out onto the streets. Han found no enjoyment watching the goings on like he usually did. Even Chewie had abandoned him, every attempt he had made to cheer Han up had failed and only proved to annoy him further.

One of the dancer girls from the room next door had somehow ended up dancing in the main cantina. She was beautiful and usually Han would have paid more attention, but tonight something was different. Tonight something else weighed on his mind. Someone was weighing him down. The dancer had caught Hans eye and shimmied over, dancing her way round the men and women in the bar, ending up at the end of her song sprawled over Hans lap.

For once Han felt embarrassed, he felt awkward.

Han made his excuses and left, almost as soon as she had sat down and ordered herself a drink. Obviously something about the smuggler had caught her eye, but he wasn't interested. So Han had returned the Falcon and headed for his cabin, locking the door behind him, something he rarely did.

Sleep wasn't very near, even though he'd been working on some repairs all through the day, replacing power couplings and re aligning the helm. He'd been awake since 5am and usually he would be wiped out and ready for bed. But not tonight.

He stretched out, closing his eyes to playback the days events. But it wasn't the days random events he worked through. There was someone waiting for him to close his eyes. And once Han was there, he subconsciously didn't want to leave, consciously he sat bolt upright partially surprised at the image he had seen.

That wasn't right, what he had seen couldn't possibly happen. It just wasn't right. He swung his legs over the side of the bunk and slipped his feet into his boots. He unlocked the door console and clomped towards the galley, maybe another sniff of whiskey would calm his nerves. It was surprising what an archaic spirit could do for the soul.

Han felt something pushing against his leg and groaned, the image he'd seen had affected him more than he'd initially realised. Han smacked himself between his legs and hoped the sudden pain would dull the throbbing need he suddenly felt.

The whiskey didn't help.

Han returned to bed again.

This time he allowed himself to become lost in the images that played through his mind, perhaps letting them play would quieten his mind.

Han was standing in an unfamiliar hanger bay, the Falcon had just docked and ground crews were scurrying round, securing her and applying fuel lines to keep her hydrated. But Han didn't pay any attention to any of this, his attention was focused on the pilot of the ship docked next to his. His muscular frame detailed by his flight suit.

He finished his post flight checks as Han looked on, totally ignoring the Corillian until he had finished. Suddenly turning to him. "So you like to watch huh? Come with me, you can do more than watch me." The dark man smiled and held out a hand to Han, although he was looking directly at the stranger, his features weren't distinct, like his was in a constant shadow.

Suddenly they were inside the strangers ship, in the cockpit as far as Han could tell. The pilot had shed his flight suit, and wore only a tight pair of under shorts. Pushed into the captains chair, Han felt vicious hands tear at his clothes, roughly they traced his skin, finally finding him naked. Han was straddled, pinned to the chair, his arousal was obvious and painful in the other mans hand, he felt a cold hand touch him gently, holding his aroused manhood almost tenderly, letting it grow with every stroke.

Han's breath hitched as he felt a warm mouth encircle him, taking him deep into his mouth, a tongue flicked his head sending shudders of pleasure through him.

Hans eyes suddenly shot open, he came back to reality quickly. He felt his hand clasped around his aroused cock. With disgust he rolled over. Why as he having these feelings, these thoughts that kept creeping into his mind.

He had always been a ladies man, he had never had any problem in the respect, and he had never had such thoughts. He growled and pulled the pillow over his head. Maybe a nights rest would sort things out, maybe he was just overtired. Sleep wouldn't be easy though, his body ached with need, but Han was determined not to acknowledge the thoughts or images he had just witnessed.


End file.
